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“Is there something I can do?” Katie stood in his kitchen, red hair that framed her pretty face and green eyes that were studying him, as he moved toward the fridge.
“I’m going to put some sandwiches in a pack, maybe some chips, cookies and bottled water. It shouldn’t take long to get it all together.” Okay, the truth was that Sandy Wilson, his parents’ housekeeper and right-hand woman, had already made the sandwiches. Four of them, bagged and ready to go. He grabbed them out of the fridge and tossed them on the counter.
Marci headed out the backdoor. He whistled and she stopped, turning with a smile.
“Where are you going?”
She looked innocent as a fox in a henhouse. Funny how a kid with blond braids and wide brown eyes could look so ornery. “I’m going to feed your dog.”
He shook his head. “Not that cookie you have in your pocket.”
No, he hadn’t seen a cookie, but he knew how she worked. He’d been in her life a long time.
“Okay, no cookie.” And out the door she went.
“She’s cute.” Katie shoved water bottles in the pack he’d put on the counter. “Are you okay?”
Her back was to him and she didn’t turn to ask the question. Probably because she knew she was overstepping the boundaries, or something to that effect. He had invited her on a picnic, but he hadn’t invited her into his life. Or Marci’s life.
“Why do you ask?” Not exactly the “back off” response he’d planned.
But then, he’d invited her today. He’d put her squarely in his life. He’d enjoyed the subtle scent of oriental perfume that had lingered in his truck, a reminder of her presence. And because of that, he’d extended an invitation that had taken him by surprise. He probably wasn’t the only one questioning the invite.
She added the sandwiches to the pack. “You looked a little lost for a few minutes. I just thought... I’m sorry, it isn’t any of my business.”
“No, I guess it isn’t.” He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair.
“Marci, she’s your...”
“Goddaughter,” he offered the one detail. “And it isn’t really something I can discuss right now. But I appreciate that you asked.”
The backdoor opened, ending the conversation. Maybe God would hear this one prayer of his—that Lulu Jenson would be okay and that he wouldn’t have to break Marci’s heart. As they headed out the back door, a hand brushed his. The touch took him by surprise and when he glanced Katie’s way he thought maybe it took her by surprise, too. What stunned him more than the touch was that the simple gesture, her fingers against his, made him want to be less of a rock, handling everything on his own.
Once, a long time ago, he’d thought he’d be married, have kids, and have someone to be a partner in the tough times. It hadn’t happened, obviously. And it had convinced him there weren’t many women interested in a relationship that included a child that wasn’t even his.
It had been a long time since he’d trusted.
Chapter Four (#ulink_ed0489ff-94f7-5daa-84cb-523711b7aa3c)
They shared a picnic on the banks of the lake, horses tied nearby and the border collie, Jake, nosing in the brown grass of early October. Nearby, a stream trickled, the water emptying into the lake. There had been a good rain a few days ago, which had set the nearly dry source of water into action once again. He told her that come spring, when the snows melted, it would be more of a rush rather than a trickle of water.
Katie had listened, watching as Marci wandered away to walk along the lake, playing with the dog as she went.
“So, you don’t ride or fish. What do you do for fun in Missoula?” Cord asked as he leaned back on the blanket, a careful eye on Marci.
What did she do in Missoula? Katie shrugged one shoulder as she searched for an answer because in the last year she’d changed a lot. She no longer partied. She no longer cared about the dating scene. She doubted he wanted those answers. He was being polite, not really wanting insight into her life. “I work.”
One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Of course you do. What else? Do you date? Do you play bridge?”
She laughed at that. “People still play bridge?”
“I have no idea. It was just the first thing that came to mind.”
“Bridge came to mind? I’m not sure what that says about you. Do you know how to play bridge?”
“Not a clue,” he confessed, his cheeks turning a little pink under his deep tan. “I know that we’re trying to rebuild a bridge and hoping this wedding brings enough business to town to aid in that goal. I take it that’s the wrong kind of bridge?”
“Yes, the wrong bridge.”
“So,” he prodded again.
“I work. I spend time with friends.” Most of whom were getting married or moving away. That left fewer friends. She did have a collection of never-to-be-worn-again bridesmaid’s dresses hanging in her closet.
“Family?”
“Nothing like yours.”
“Is Gwen your only sibling?”
She glanced at him, a sideways glance, taking in his handsome profile half shaded by the black cowboy hat he had donned after church. “Yes, she is.”
He had been leaning back on one elbow. He sat up, watching her. She chose to look toward the lake because it was easier to focus on water that shimmered and sparkled than to face his piercing blue eyes, softened as they were by dark lashes. On the bank of the lake Marci picked up a rock and skipped it across the glassy water.
“You’re close, you and Gwen?” Cord pushed.
“We’re close.” Enough. They were close enough.
“Your parents?”
She looked away from Marci back to the man sitting next to her. “Are they close?”
He grinned and her insides melted a little. “Sure, okay, we’ll go with that.”
“They’ve been married for thirty-three years and they wouldn’t not be married. But I’m not sure if they like each other.”
She sometimes wondered if they liked her. And she wasn’t a melodramatic person, just a realist. She didn’t fit. When she looked at family pictures she was the odd one out. Gwen, beautiful, petite, dark brown hair and a brain that never forgot a fact. Carla, her mother, was a dentist. James, her father, was a lawyer. Katie’s red hair came from her great-grandmother. She’d once heard her mother say that she’d wanted Katie to have black hair, like her husband’s.
“My parents were high school sweethearts,” Cord said with a shrug. “I don’t know how they stay in love but they do.”
“They are proof that some marriages work.”
“Yes, I guess they are. They’ve been a great example to us. We’ve seen them work out their disagreements, go through hard times and still hold on to each other.”
Katie wondered, but she didn’t comment. What she’d seen in the few days since she’d arrived in Jasper Gulch on the first day of October was a couple that loved each other but maybe weren’t in agreement. There was something beneath the surface, something going on. Katie saw it in the looks they gave one another and in whispered conversations. If something was going on between Jackson and Nadine Shaw, it couldn’t be easy to work through it with strangers in their home.
“Thank you for letting me join you today,” Katie said, shifting to a safer topic. “I know this is usually your day with Marci.”
He pushed his hat back and gave her a closer look. “You know that, do you?”
“Julie,” she admitted.
“Julie, of course. She’s a little too much in my business of late.”
“She’s really terrific.”
“Of course she is. Terrific and in my business.”
“I’m sorry.” Katie pulled her knees up and rested her chin as she watched Marci race across the field, the dog chasing after her. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not prying. You’ve been tossed into our lives since you got here. I don’t think that was your plan or our intention. And I’m probably as surprised as Julie that I invited you this afternoon. Or that Marci agreed to the invitation.”
“Why is that?”
“That you’ve been tossed into our lives?” His smile said he knew that wasn’t her question. “I think because you’re easy to be around and you allow yourself to be a part of what is going on here.”
“Not that.”
His gaze now lingered on the young girl who was sitting on the grass some distance from them, the black-and-white border collie licking her face as she laughed. “I protect her because she deserves to be protected. I was engaged.”
“I heard. But not to her mother?”
He shook his head but his attention remained focused on Marci. “I met my fiancée when Marci was four. Susan didn’t want anything to do with Marci. I kept holding on to hope that she’d change her mind. I kept moving forward with the wedding plans, thinking that once we were married she would warm up to the idea of Marci in our lives. Instead, she left the state with my best friend.”
“Dodged that one, didn’t you?”
He laughed at her easy response to a situation that had left him with a bad taste in his mouth and no desire to ever repeat the mistake. “I guess you could put it that way.”
“I do have a way with words.”
“Yes, you do.”
“And Marci’s mom?”
He sighed and sat up, one leg bent, his knee up, the other leg stretched out in front of him. “Angie. She was one of my best friends for most of my life. She got pregnant in college by a guy who didn’t want Marci.”
His phone rang, ending the moment and the conversation. Katie started packing up the remains of their picnic as he pushed himself to his feet and walked away. As he talked in low tones, she cast a cautious glance his way, wondering what might have stolen the smile he wore just moments earlier. As he talked, he watched Marci playing, nodded a few times, and when the conversation ended, he didn’t speak for a few minutes.
“Is everything okay?” She had everything back in the backpack and the blanket they’d sat on was folded.
“No, I have to leave. And I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, but I can’t take Marci to town with me.”
“You have to go to town?”
He grabbed the pack and attached it to the saddle of his horse. “Yes, I do. There’s a situation I need to take care of.”
“Of course.”
He untied her horse and led the gray gelding to her. They stood there for a moment, she staring up at him. It took her by surprise, having to look up. Her world closed in, focusing only on him. And it frightened her. She didn’t want to go down that path again.
This man was dangerous. His strength was a danger. As was his kindness. More than that, his vulnerability was dangerous. That might be the most dangerous part, that part of him that had been hurt, might still be hurting, might need someone desperately. It was in his eyes, in the guarded look he shifted in Marci’s direction as the girl cavorted with the dog, unaware of the phone call. Katie guessed that it probably had something to do with the child.
She wanted to help Cord but wasn’t sure how. And she knew better than to try to be that person for anyone. Because it always hurt later, when she realized she’d just been filling the space of friend.
He handed her the reins to the horse.
“Foot in the stirrup,” he said softly, and as she moved, she realized how close they were to one another. His hand was on the saddle and their faces were inches apart. He leaned, so close she could feel the warmth of him.
He stepped back, shaking his head just a little.
“Wow.” He whistled. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t know what to say, either. She needed to think of something. Fast. Before she claimed the kiss she knew he’d considered and then reconsidered. “What is the situation in town, or should I ask?”
“You shouldn’t ask.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
He darted a quick look over his shoulder before looking at her again, letting out a shaky sigh. “Her grandmother, Lulu, has Alzheimer’s. I’m not sure how long she’s had it, but it’s progressed to the point that she can no longer hide it.”
“Marci?”
Serious regret settled in the depths of his blue eyes. “We were going to sit her down and tell her. We should have told her sooner but it’s a lot of reality for an eleven-year-old kid.”
“And right now?”
“She was at the diner and when she walked out to the car she couldn’t remember how to get home. She looked confused, so a couple of friends asked if they could help and she told them. They took her home and are there with her now, waiting for me.”
“We’re wasting time.”
She somehow she managed to get back in the saddle, knowing her legs would punish her later for this unusual treatment. Marci was heading their way, laughing as the dog chased her. Cord had her horse untied and handed her the reins when she stopped in front of him.
“Time to go, kiddo.”
Marci threw herself easily into the saddle and gave him an annoyed look from her perch on the pretty bay she rode, a deep brown–coated animal with black legs and a black mane and tail. Until today Katie hadn’t known a bay from a dapple gray. Gray being the horse she rode.
“Why?”
“We need to take Katie back to the main ranch and then you and I will have a talk.” Cord had a hand on her horse’s neck.
“About?” Marci held the reins of the restless horse and finally spoke sharply, telling her mare to stop. The mare settled.
“I don’t want to discuss it right now.” Cord’s tone took on that fatherly, brook-no-argument tone.
“Is something wrong with Grammy?”
Katie bit down on her lip and waited for Cord’s reply. This man she’d known for only a few days, and already she felt so tied into his life. Her heart ached for him and for the girl staring him down. He might think that Marci didn’t know anything was wrong with her grandmother, but Katie thought he might be wrong.
* * *
